


Hulderkall

by BoStarsky



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Hulder Kylo, Hux gets lost, Kylo’s bare butt, M/M, Modern AU, Norway is nothing but trees, fae, fairytale AU, soft hugs, they’re both smitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: On a mandatory team building exercise Hux gets lost in the Norwegian wilderness where he encounters someone who makes him question his choices in life.





	Hulderkall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Christoph_Einar (ChristophInTheNightSky)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristophInTheNightSky/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Christoph_Einar! I hope you enjoy it! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Crash course in Hulder mythology for those interested:
> 
> The Hulder is one of the many fae creatures living in the Norwegian woods, they can typically be found near settlements and worksites. They’re not naturally aggressive towards humans, so long as you’re polite and don’t break any promises made you should be fine, you might even receive something in return for your kindness. 
> 
> Typically Hulder are depicted as fair, young women whos beauty is unmatched, but spoiled by their hollow backs and cow tails. (I took some liberties with Kylo in this fic as the info on Hulderfolk is very limited) There are many variations on the myth depending on where in Norway you live, this is the one I grew up with, further out the coast you might find more siren like myths and along the Swedish border they loose their tails and become more human. 
> 
> I’m really not all that good at writing info like this so I would suggest google if you’re interested in learning more. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @BoStarsky

/>

Woods, Norway is composed of nothing, but trees, moss and mountains, it’s a beautiful sight when you’re flying in, lush and green. It’s still beautiful even when he’s lost, far away from his corporate tour group, though it’s beauty has taken on an eerie tone in the setting sun, shadows growing, swallowing the ground within its reach. Why did Snoke think this awful bonding trip into the middle of nowhere could possibly be beneficial to anyone? Not one single thing about his current situation could be considered relaxing. 

Regardless he’ll still have to claim some of the blame for this, he should have known better than to wander off in the dark. Would have known better if it hadn’t been his father calling to nag about his non existent marital status like he does every bloody week. Not even bad cell signal could stop him, forcing Hux to pursue higher ground away from the cabin lest his father call again and again and again. 

Now all he can see are trees, the only sounds coming from nature herself, the trickle of a stream, a rustle of leaves. An owl hoots, his heart jumps, the shadows have eaten their way to him, licking at his brand new mountain boots, the purple sky turning black, finally abandoning him to his fate.

And here he is, alone in the Norwegian wilderness nothing but a useless phone for company and a thin jacket to keep the cold out. They'll notice he’s gone, they'll search for him, they will. He might not be on the best terms with some of his coworkers, but they won’t leave him to die. If not tonight, they’ll come in the morning, marched along like troops by their guide Phasma. He can rely on her. In the meanwhile all he can do is try to find his way back, he can’t have gone that far. If only he could remember which direction he came from, it all looks the same to him. 

Stumbling around in the dark is a surefire way to get hurt, the track already littered with rocks and stray roots, for all he knows he might have strayed from the path already. 

Dread settles heavy in his stomach after what feels like hours, time having become a fleeting concept with no way to keep track. Curse Snoke for this. Wouldn’t an estate in the Lake District have served the same purpose? Why Norway? Why here in this cursed forest where directions are void? Where the night is hungry and the ground full of teeth to trip you into it’s cold maw. 

The ground turns soft and spongy, rushing water growing closer, he can stay here until morning; there no use in losing himself further in this maze of birch and rowan where he’ll find nothing, but his death from exhaustion. It’s by sheer luck alone that he doesn’t tumble right over the edge of the waterfall, a gnarled tree growing out of the rocky ground offering an arm to keep him safe. The sky is open to him here, pale moonlight casting an outlandish glow over the misty water below. 

To his tired eyes it looks like the setting of a fairytale, magical almost. He feels safe here, clambering down a narrow, overgrown path to the stripped rock surrounding the shimmering pool. He sits just inside the tree line where the moss can cushion him from the unforgiving ground and he has a clear view of the pool and its surroundings. Yes, he’ll stay here for the night. They’ll find him in the morning, they have to. He can’t have gone far.

Sleep won’t be easy to find surrounded as he is by strange sounds and the chill of nighttime. The roar of the waterfall is nearly deafening amongst it all, calling to him like a twisted siren song, promising to drown him should he venture too close. He might feel safe here, but he is still an intruder in this strange grove. 

He sits there propped up against a study birch, flaky bark itchy against his cheek, curled around himself in a bid for comfort. Being scared isn’t something he wants to admit to, but there’s no other word for it, who wouldn’t be; lost in a strange country like this? He’s never been camping his whole life and now he’s forced to spend a night outside in a forest inhabited by bears and god knows what else. 

Time moves like molasses until he jerks awake to pale sunlight and birdsong raining down through the canopy. He’s still alive. His hands and feet are numb from cold and his clothes damp from the morning mist, but he’s alive. Now that it’s bathed in light the forest seem less foreboding, reverting to the soft greens and browns he was introduced to yesterday. Maybe he’ll find his own way back now that he can see. Maybe he shouldn’t move in case they’re looking for him. 

What if they can’t find him? What if he dies here in fucking Norway? He’ll get eaten by bears before his body is found and there will be nothing left to bury. Would anyone even come to his funeral? Unlikely, he’s well aware that he’s not particularly well liked. Over the years he’s made a point to be polite and not unnecessarily strict with those under his command, but he can’t recall being invited out by them even once. No after work drinks, no birthdays or weddings, would they even care if he ended up as bear shit? Probably not. 

Well, there’s no use moaning about it now, not when he could be finding his way back to civilisation. 

Relieving himself in a bush is quite possibly the most savage thing he’s ever done and he’d loath to repeat it, the fact that there is no soap to wash his hands with makes his skin crawl, thank god for pocket sized hand sanitizer. Next thing on the agenda is water, crisp, cold, mountain water from the waterfall he nearly fell down last night, he just needs to figure out how to reach it without getting wet. Easier said than done. 

The rock is slippery with wet moss near the cascading water, the spray from its uneven path creating patterns on his trousers leaving him looking like he’s been doused by a rude driver during a rainstorm. His boots may have been advertised as waterproof, but the waterfall missed that particular memo as it turns his thick socks soggy and cold. Oh joy. The water, at least, is delicious. 

Or, it is until he slips off the blasted rock he’s balancing on and falls into the pool below. Once submerged it’s no longer all that nice. Panic takes him momentarily as the freezing water needles into his sore muscles effectively stunning him long enough that he sinks to the bottom of this ocean in the middle of nowhere. He really is going to die here. 

He’s just started flailing when strong hands grip him hoisting him above the surface. Lungs burning with the need for oxygen he forgets for a moment that he’s no longer alone too preoccupied with satisfying his need for air. Now that he’s standing the water that had felt so impossibly deep only reaches up to his waist, the cold no longer as severe. 

“Thank you,” he gasps, coughing to clear the water from his throat. 

It would be safe to say nothing could have prepared him for what he would find behind him. No, nothing could have warned him of the breathtaking beauty of the man who saved him, the very naked man who saved him. The man in possession of skin like porcelain and hair like thick waves of black silk, eyes deeper than the ocean and warmer than a crackling fire, plush lips the colour of rose petals and likely just as soft. Someone this beautiful must be a figment of his imagination, people like this simply don’t exist. 

Perhaps he’s been out here longer than he thought, possibly even frozen to death against that tree or drowned in this shallow pool. But then the man speaks and confuses him even further with his dark voice like rich chocolate and a warm cup of tea in the evening, dancing across the space between them in strange words he can’t understand. His voice alone is seduction like he’s never heard before. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” it’s first when he tries to speak he notices how hard he’s shivering, teeth threatening to cut his tongue in half. “My name is Armitage Hux, I’m lost, can you help me?” Does this man even speak english, or is he just as lost as he was before. 

“Can I?” It takes an embarrassing few seconds for his muddled brain to catch up and register the change in language. 

“You speak English?” The relief he feels can be likened to finally arriving home after a weekend spent with his parents and their endless supply of suitable women.

“I speak whatever I want,” he sounds so sure of himself Hux doesn’t dare question him, there’s no point in doubting what he knows deep down to be the truth. This is no ordinary man. “You’re cold,” thick arms wrap around him with ease, enveloping him in an unnatural warmth that should not be as comforting as it is. 

The man’s skin is just as smooth and soft as it looks, inviting him further into this seductive embrace, asking him to stay. “Thank you,” he thinks it best to thank this creature for sharing its warmth, memories of folktales swimming in his mind, of fae folk and trickery. He best not take any chances. 

It’s hard to resist returning the embrace, but something tells him that if he does he’ll never leave this place. The urge to reach out and touch is stronger than anything he’s felt, never has he wanted a man so painfully much as this. 

“Can you help me get back?” This is a situation where being polite is all that matters since he has no way of knowing what this man is. Offending him would surely leave him gutted like a fish. 

“Don’t you want to stay?” He wants to, badly. He’d like nothing more than to let this creature consume him, but he has to resist. 

“I can’t, I’ll be missed,” will he though?

The man grips him tighter, big hands spreading over his back to push him closer. Possessive. 

Lonely. 

“I really can’t stay,” it hurts to deny this creature, this terribly lonely soul haunting the hidden corners of the forest. “May I ask your name?”

“Kylo,” even his name sounds otherworldly, the two syllables musical on his smooth tongue. 

“Are you here alone, Kylo,” it rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and magical. If only he knew what Kylo is. 

“Yes, alone and forgotten,” he quietly admits, mumbling into Hux’s shoulder. 

“Will you take me if I return your touch?” He speaks carefully, each word planned ahead, he can’t afford to take any chances. Just the thought that he might never leave here is enough to keep his mind level. He can’t stay, but maybe he can give Kylo some much needed companionship for a while longer. 

“No,” that lone word is all he needs to reach up and wrap his arms around Kylo’s broad chest. 

Kylo melts into his arms, holding on for dear life, yet Hux doesn’t feel threatened. The hold over him is gone, the man in his arms is no more human than before, what he is is vulnerable and starved for attention. He’s warm, giving off heat like a furnace, unhindered by the cold water they stand in. 

“Will you show me the way back?” It’s foolish, perhaps, to break the moment, but he has a life to return to. A miserable life, but a life all the same. 

This time Kylo does as he’s asked leading Hux out of the pool and into the trees. He walks unbothered by the rough ground on his bare feet guiding them onto a path winding through the thicket. Warmed by Kylo’s presence it’s significantly more pleasant to hike through the woods than it had been yesterday when they set out on this godforsaken exercise. Now he’s more occupied by the beauty of it all than the discomfort of being outside, his wet clothes barely a blip on the radar when he can watch the face of his saviour guiding him back to civilisation. 

Kylo is no less beautiful here under the canopy that he’d been in the pale morning sun. Water glistens on his skin in the speckled light slipping through the leaves, it’s all too easy to follow a drop running down his magnificent chest and all too difficult to tear his eyes away before they go too far down. 

What is he? Hux can’t help, but wonder. This man who saved him from his own clumsiness then tried to seduce him to his side. Is he nymph or fairy? Fae or demon? Can he be trusted or is he just leading him in circles until he's lost forever in this maze of green. It all remains to be seen, for as it is Kylo is all he has, his only hope. 

Wet socks squelching uncomfortably in his waterlogged boots they continue on along the unmarked path to a soundtrack of birdsong. His exhaustion is catching up to him, clothes starting to chafe and itch, if he had any less modesty he might choose to do as Kylo and forgo clothes entirely. Being that confident and comfortable in his skin his more far fetched to him than the existence of supernatural beings. 

A stray root snags his dragging feet the ground approaching at an alarming rate and all he can manage to think is, fuck. His arms snap up to shield his face from an impact that never comes. Kylo’s hands gripping him under his arms burn like brands on his skin, big and strong like the paws of a bear. A jolt of fear hits him when Kylo doesn’t stop at righting him, choosing instead to lift him off the ground entirely like a damsel in distress. 

“You’re tired, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” something tells him there’s no point in arguing. 

Kylo carries on like Hux weighs no more than a sack of flour, holding him securely against that massive chest. Relaxing into the solid warmth is perhaps not the wisest idea, but his body is sore and tired from a night spent outside, his stomach crying for food and his feet likely blistered from use. It’s there as he loops his arms around Kylo’s neck that he happens to catch a glimpse down his back. 

A tail. 

It’s the first outward sign he’s seen of Kylo’s inhuman origin, it’s thick and black, tapering off into a tuft of hair. It’s the tail of an ox, swinging lazily with the rhythm of his walk, rooted in what looks like bark. There is a rift up his spine where the pale wood of a birch peeks through, it looks old and worn, nearly to the point of being black with rot in places. How did he miss this? He should have felt it when they were in the water, shouldn’t he?

Magic, his brain supplies. Everything he knows to be real has already been questioned so why not add magic to the mix. It’s not any more far fetched than Kylo’s tail or the wood sprouting from his bones. Why wouldn’t magic be a part of this?

He averts his eyes before too long, it’s rude to stare, resting his head on Kylo’s meaty shoulder and breathing in the smell of pine needles and freshly cut wood, it’s almost sweet in a way. Would his skin taste like sap? Sweet and mild on his tongue, the flavour of a young tree bursting with life. He could find out if only he says yes to the fate Kylo wants to give him. 

Resolve crumbling for the sake of something sweet Hux is close to giving in and putting his mouth to that pale skin. Just a taste. What’s there to lose? 

“Your cabin is just beyond those trees,” Kylo’s deep voice shakes him from his trance, saving him one last time. 

He’s right, he can see the stained timber and thatch roof in slivers between the trees, a disjointed puzzle of wood. His feet hit the ground, but Kylo’s steady grip on him remains for now. 

“Thank you,” the smile he receives in return is so sad it nearly breaks his heart, those big eyes shining with emotion deeper than Hux can even comprehend. “Come see me?” Not once does it cross his mind that inviting Kylo back could be a very bad idea, his judgement clouded by the hurt in those eyes. 

Immediately he perks up, but the happiness doesn’t reach as far as Hux would have liked. He can’t stay forever even if he’d like to, still Kylo is better company than any of his coworkers and he doubts they’d notice him sneaking off to frolic in the woods with this beautiful creature before him. They’d both benefit from some good company so why not share it?

“Please?” He adds on to help quell Kylo’s inner turmoil, reaching up to touch that strange face. 

Kylo lets him go before Hux can do something stupid giving him a gentle nudge in the direction of the cabin before turning his back leaving Hux in full view of his rotting back. “You don’t want me, Armitage, I’m broken,” he walks away before Hux has a chance to reply, disappearing amongst the trees as if he was never there. 

“I think that’s for me to decide,” he whispers in the hopes that Kylo can still hear him. A rustle of leaves is the only answer he gets. 

The promise of dry clothes and a bath is what finally draws him out of the woods and into the cabin. The two hungover people sitting around the kitchen table fall into silence when he steps through the door before Unamo jumps into action snatching up the walkie talkie and presumably contacts Phasma to report his return. He doesn't bother to stand around and listen to them pretend to care. 

He takes his time in the “washroom” which is really just an outhouse with a tiny space set off for a basin and a tank of water. Snoke is a fucking billionaire, would it really have cost him that much to dump them someplace with running water? 

Then again, if they’d been someplace else he wouldn’t have met Kylo who has so far been the highlight of this whole nightmare. He’ll have to see him again, there’s no doubt about it. It can’t be impossible to find his way back to that hidden pool, if he can remember which direction they came from he can find his way back tomorrow. The thought of Kylo being out there all alone, rotting from the inside is just too much to ignore. If there’s one thing he can understand it’s being lonely. 

What exactly does he have in London? An empty flat, a job he doesn’t love, parents who don’t love him. What’s it all worth besides status in a society where everyone has a knife up their sleeve. If he can escape that world, even for a little while, why shouldn’t he?

“Hux?” Phasma muscles her way into the cramped space with no apparent concern for modesty. “What the fuck happened?” Straight to the point then.

“My phone died and I got lost,” yanking a dry thermal over his head does little to make him feel better about this intrusion. “I’m perfectly fine, Ms. Phasma,”

“What part of don’t wander off didn’t you understand,” she’s right, it had been one of the first rules she’d laid down before they set out on this hike. Typically Hux would have paid close attention to where he was, but his father has a way of making him forget. “You could have died, your boss would have had my head if I lost one of you idiots,” Hux is convinced Phasma must have been a Viking warrior in a previous life. 

“I had help,” he smiles fondly at the memories still fresh in his mind, the scent of pine still clinging loosely to his skin. “A nice young man showed me the way back,” he provides when Phasma just stares expectantly. 

“There’s no one here, but us for miles around,” blue eyes narrow into a squint. 

“Apparently there is,” this is already going too deep, would Kylo be in danger if he reveals too much?

“What did he look like?” She crosses her arms using her imposing frame to block off the door should he try to weasel out. “Tall, dark hair, pretty?” She rattled off when Hux remains silent, “cow’s tail,” he knows he’s been caught when he sucks in a quick breath at the mention of Kylo’s tail. 

“You met Kylo and survived?” She sounds impressed if anything.

“So have you,” If she knows of Kylo she must have spoken to him as well at some point. 

“Once, a long time ago. You should stay away from him or he’ll drag you to the underground,”

“What is he?” He can’t help his curiosity, he needs to know. 

“Hulder,” Norwegian is a strange, flat language he’s found, but that one word sounds magical all on its own. “His kind is best left to rot until they become stubs, forget about him. Whatever he told you, don’t listen,” with that she leaves him alone with his thoughts. 

Rot until they become stubs? Is that what’s happening to Kylo? Alone and forgotten.

What a terrible fate. 

But if Kylo is dying then why did he help Hux when he could have taken him anyway. There was plenty of opportunity for Kylo to drown him or take him further into the woods, to the underground. Instead the allegedly evil hulder carried his exhausted body back to the cabin filled with no ill will. In no scenario can he realistically imagine Kylo as evil when he’s the most gentle giant Hux has ever met. 

Phasma may have more knowledge of her country’s myths and fables, but Hux has firsthand experience and no margin by which to judge. Fae folk are tricky, that’s true, but if Kylo wanted him dead he wouldn’t be standing here right now. 

No, as far as he can tell Kylo is just lonely, abandoned by a society who’s forgotten he exists. 

The day goes on much as yesterday had, card games and dumb activities to “strengthen” their relationships. Maybe it would work if there was a relationship to improve. Using his overnight adventure as an excuse Hux slinks off for a nap and some planning. 

When he wakes up the sun is much lower in the sky, casting everything in an orange glow. Just like yesterday. He can hear the strains of laughter coming from outside where his colleagues sit around the crackling fire pit drinking cheap beer and grilling sausages. He’d join them if he didn’t already try last night only to end up feeling like a forgotten pebble in his canvas chair. Tonight he’s going hunting. 

In the cramped kitchen he fixes a few sandwiches with that brown cheese Phasma was so adamant they try. He’s loath to admit it, but Phasma was right about it being amazing. He stuffs it into Mitaka’s small backpack that he’s borrowed, he’ll be too drunk to notice it’s absence anyway, along with a bottle of water before climbing out the bedroom window with the intentions of a rebellious teen. 

The forest is no less foreboding today, trees casting long shadows in the light of his torch. Keeping his focus on finding his way back to Kylo helps lessen the creeping dread of being alone like this, god he hopes this is the right direction. 

When he can no longer hear laughter he walks a few more minutes before calling Kylo’s name. No answer. He keeps a steady course towards the sound of trickling water, hoping that if he follows it he might find his way back to the pool, back to the man who lives there. 

He’s nearly upon it when a voice whispers in his ear, “I’m not the only thing out here, you know,” Hux nearly jumps out of his skin at Kylo’s sudden appearance, a high pitched scream he is in no way proud of scaring a few birds from a nearby tree. 

Kylo laughs, a deep rumble escalating into a full on fit when Hux smacks him in the chest with enough effort to make it sting. “Then don’t sneak up on me,” He punctuates with another smack, trying his hardest to hold back a smile of his own. “And what do you mean not the only thing?”

“Trolls,” The hulder supplies ominously between chortles. “They’ll eat you alive and cook soup on your bones,” trolls are real too? Norway being a fairytale country has taken on an entirely new meaning in the last two days. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” well, he wasn’t worried until Kylo upped the ante from just bears to bears and trolls. 

Kylo smiles a crooked grin, that is way more charming than it has any right to be, and grabs his hand to pull him along. Hux follows dutifully, trusting that he’s safe. As long as he’s a step behind he sneaks a glance at Kylo’s back surprised to find it looking less rotten than it had this morning, there’s even the beginnings of green leaves budding near the base of his tail. He does an experimental stroke of his thumb over Kylo’s knuckles and watches one of the buds unfurl into a tiny white flower. 

“You’re not broken,” He's barely aware he’s said anything at all until Kylo suddenly stops mid stride. “Just a little dented is all,” Unshed tears glisten in Kylo’s eyes making them shine like stars in the darkness around them. 

“Why did you come back?” There’s nothing in his voice to betray the tears slipping down his face. It occurs to Hux that Kylo might be faking this as a way to draw him in, that it might just all be an elaborate ruse. 

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone,” he might as well tell the truth and hope that this is real. What’s there to lose?

“Even if I tried to take you?”

“You didn’t and that’s what matters,” he believes Kylo to be much more than what the folktales say, though he’s not sure Kylo believes the same. 

“Come,” Kylo pulls him away again, off the path and up a small hill to the foot of a boulder reaching for the sky. He scales it like it’s nothing at all reaching down to offer Hux a hand. 

Against all better judgement he takes it and let’s Kylo haul him up to the top. The view is spectacular. If he stands up he can see above the trees down the hill and out across the whole area, he can even spot the smoke from the cabin much closer than he thought it would be. 

“This is my favourite spot,” Kylo mutters next to him flopping down on the green moss sprawling over the rock. “You can almost touch the stars,” he reaches out towards the purpling sky above, squinting through his spread fingers at the emerging stars. “It’s so beautiful,”

There’s not much he can do to contain the blush spreading from his cheeks when Kylo very deliberately looks at him as he speaks. Oh lord. 

“It is,” he keeps his eyes firmly locked onto Kylo’s as he settles next to him, tucking himself up against his side so he can rest his cheek on a firm shoulder. Laying here like this, snuggled up on a rock, has no right being as comfortable as it is, yet there's nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“What happens if you take me?” Hux asks after a beat of silence, afraid to admit to himself that he’s seriously considering it as an option. 

“You’ll become like me,” 

“How long have you been like this?” Is he digging too deep?

“Since 1933, I got lost just like you,” somehow he can easily imagine Kylo as a young farmhand or maybe a logger in these woods. Fresh faced and bright eyed in a world not yet consumed by corruption and media. 

“I envy your freedom,” he turns his head to look Kylo in the eye finding him a much more pleasing visage than the sparkling night sky. 

“This isn't a life you want, Hux,” a somber veil blankets the hulder’s face, a deep longing in his eyes crossed with the defiant set of his mouth. 

“Can’t you leave this place?” Once more he puts a hand to Kylo’s cheek, basking the warmth radiating from the smooth skin, the soft silk of his hair under the pads of his fingers. 

“Not anymore,” a huge hand comes up to clasp his, holding him in place while Kylo nuzzles into his palm. 

Sensing Kylo’s reluctance in the topic he decides to leave it for now, choosing instead to enjoy the moment for what it is. He can’t even remember the last time he allowed himself to enjoy something like this. It’s a shame how he’s gotten so used to one night stands that he’s all, but forgotten how good it feels to just hold and be held. 

Above them the sky turns from a bruised plum to velvet black, but Hux couldn’t care less about the passage of time. Not as long as Kylo’s solid warmth is wrapped around him, chasing away the cold night with gentle touches. The moon is soft with her silver light, but Kylo’s skin glows with it, the black of his tail cutting through it all like the deepest shadow. 

This one time he decides to be stupid, after all, what’s there to loose?

Those rose coloured lips are just as soft as they look, yielding with little pressure from his own. He does taste like sap, sweet on Hux’s tongue as he sneaks a taste of that plush bottom lip. 

A few days ago he would have laughed at the thought of kissing someone bathed in moonlight like some sort of romance cliche, but life has a strange way of making the unexpected happen. Neither did he think fae actually existed and now he’s snogging one like a desperate teenager. At this point he should probably disregard everything he’s been taught about life on Earth in general. 

It’s not everyday he kisses someone with a tail so it takes him by surprise when the unexpected weight flops over his hip. He breaks from their kiss with a startled gasp, thinking for a second that a snake has found its way to them before he looks down in time to see Kylo pulling his tail away, hiding it behind his back. To combat Kylo’s, no doubt, self deprecating thoughts he quickly reaches behind the man and wraps his hand around the warm coil hidden there. 

In a way this feel more intimate than kissing had.

The tail wraps around his wrist, coarse hair tickling the sensitive skin. The sensation makes him smile and he uses the tail to tip Kylo’s heavy body onto him, bringing him closer than ever before. He could stay like this forever. 

———

“Why didn’t you take Phasma?” It’s his fourth week with Kylo and he’s watching his boyfriend weave a crown out of delicate wildflowers plucked from their backs. 

He looks up from his work with a puzzled expression. It’s not recent then. “She was just a kid, I don’t take children,” he explains when Hux has elaborated. 

“She kept warning me away from you,” Phasma was waiting for him when he came back that second night, creeping in the shadows with a can of beer. A less sophisticated version of his father, but just as threatening in her chewing out. 

“You should have listened to her,” another flower goes in the crown, twisted into the band of colour.

“I don’t believe in fairytales,” Hux states leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Kylo’s cheek. “You’ve proven yourself to be much more,” the pride that glows on Kylo’s face pulls at all the right strings. Another flower blooms in his back, this one purple, soon the entire rift will be filled and all because Hux finally made the right choice.


End file.
